House Elf Harry
by Molly Morrison
Summary: Everyone at Hogwarts is in for a surprise when they meet Harry Potter; his upbringing didn't turn out exactly how anyone expected. AU!
1. Chapter 1

House Elf Harry, Chapter 1

Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood in front of Number 4 Privet Drive as a human for only the second time in a decade. Her grey hair was pulled tightly back into a bun on top of her head, and her face was arranged in an expression much more strict and proper than friendly. With one last moment of hesitation (ostensibly to straighten the shirt of her Muggle suit), she stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell.

Or at least she pressed the button. Usually when she went to a Muggle home, she could hear the bell sound on the inside, but this time she hadn't. She hardly had time to consider this, though, before the door opened to reveal a tiny boy in ragged clothes. She searched above his brilliant green eyes and below his messy black hair to confirm that this, indeed, was the 'savior' of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Hello, Harry," she began, frowning angrily at the condition of the boy's clothes. "I'm—"

Harry interrupted her abruptly. "Please come in, Professor McGonagall, ma'am." He looked past her worriedly, as if checking to see if anyone was nearby. "Aunt Petunia wouldn't want anyone speaking about _that_ on the front porch," he explained after she had come in and he had shut the door behind her, his movements apparently practiced. "Please, Professor McGonagall, ma'am, have a seat in the sitting room. Har—I'll call my aunt." The stern older woman blinked at the profusion of titles (not to mention the fact that he apparently knew her name) but took a seat as requested. An instant later, she heard Harry's voice, quiet and yet oddly not, calling, "Aunt Petunia, ma'am. In the sitting room."

A slender woman who was not particularly attractive (and actually bore a strange resemblance to a horse) bustled into the room a moment later. "Oh! A visitor!" she exclaimed in a falsely polite tone. McGonagall stood immediately to greet her.

"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You'll recognize the name from the letters you've received?" she attempted to prod the unpleasant woman's memory.

"Petunia Dursley," the woman replied, only hesitantly offering her hand to be shaken and looking as though touching Minerva were something she would rather have avoided. "Letters? I don't believe we've received any—"

"In Har-my cupboard," the tiny black-haired boy supplied immediately. "I didn't want to disturb you, Aunt Petunia. I thought they'd leave it alone if I didn't respond."

"Leave it alone?" McGonagall echoed, raising an eyebrow disapprovingly. "Why would we 'leave it alone'? Your name's been down for Hogwart's nearly since you were born!"

"But I don't want to go to—" He broke off as a second visitor appeared in the room, directly in front of Harry. Petunia made a choking sound and gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in, but didn't say anything.

"_Master Harry Potter_." Despite the honorifics, McGonagall had never seen a House Elf look so imposing. The strict professor felt suddenly that this one could give her mother a run for her money. The impression was amplified by the fact that the elf only stood a few inches shorter than Harry himself, and made it look as though she was glaring down at him rather than up. "What has Dovey told Harry, sir, about saying he is not going to Hogwarts?"

The expression on Harry's face looked like a cross between nervousness and terror. "Harry knows, Dovey," he began quickly, and then was cut off immediately.

"And what has Dovey told Harry Potter about speaking like he is an Elf?" Harry's little hands clenched into fists.

"But Dovey—Professor McGonagall—"

The motherly (and frankly, frightening) House Elf turned to face the older woman for the first time. She bowed respectfully and murmured, "Dovey is very sorry, Professor McGonagall, ma'am. Dovey has told Harry Potter, sir…"

"What are you doing in a Muggle house, Dovey? To whom do you belong?" Minerva began sternly, trying to regain control of the situation. Merlin, what was going _on_ here?

The House Elf looked surprised. "Dovey is checking in on Harry Potter, sir, like Dovey has been doing since Dovey's little Slinky has known Harry Potter, sir. Dovey belongs to the House of Bones, and as Dovey's House is not needing her and Harry Potter is, Dovey is coming immediately."

Harry scowled. "Har—I don't need you. I'm not going to Hogwarts. What is the--will the House do without me?" Stubbornly the boy's green eyes remained on Dovey rather than his future professor.

"Mr. Potter, look at me," Minerva began sternly. His eyes snapped to her and then down to the floor as he assumed a subservient posture. "No, _at_ me." He dragged his eyes up to hers, but they were wide with surprise. "I don't know what you have been told or what has been going on here, but you are not a House Elf, Mr. Potter. You are a Wizard, and you are expected at Hogwarts in the fall. I am here to take you shopping for school supplies."

"And Dovey is sending Harry Potter on his way with best wishes, ma'am." Dovey gave Harry a shove from behind toward his professor.

"Don't we have any say in the matter?" a timid, high-pitched voice asked from the armchair. Petunia had finally found her voice, and now she had three pairs of eyes, two angry and one pleading, on her. "I mean, it's clear that the boy would rather stay and… well, he's been a great help around the house…"

Glaring down her spectacles at Petunia, Minerva replied, "Let me get this straight. You have been training this boy, who you knew from the day you took him in would be going to Hogwarts, as a House Elf, and now you want to keep him from his _destiny_ so he can keep your _house_?"

"…If it's what he wants?" Petunia tried one last time, apparently overwhelmed by the pleading green eyes. Or maybe by her own laziness.

Dovey turned to McGonagall, apparently satisfied that this last was not worth a response. "Dovey has not let Harry learn how to bind himself to the House. Harry Potter is needing clothes, ma'am, and is needing to go to Hogwarts and to learn to be a Wizard, Dovey knows."

"Thank you, Dovey," McGonagall responded stiffly. "Professor Dumbledore may be contacting you again in the future. I am going to take Harry to buy his things now."

"Dovey will be very honored if Headmaster Dumbledore sir wishes to be speaking with humble Dovey." She turned to Harry. "Hairy is not Dovey's, and Hairy is a Wizard, and a great and powerful one. Hairy is needing to go to Hogwarts and learn how to be a good Wizard," she said with great emotion in her voice. Harry nodded reluctantly, and then waved his hand. To McGonagall's surprise, Dovey Disapparated as silently as she had arrived, but Harry didn't seem surprised. He waved once more at the place where Dovey had been, then turned to watch Minerva's feet expectantly.

"Now. We'll need to walk to the edge of the wards in order to take a Portkey to the Leaky Cauldron, which is the entrance to Diagon Alley." She held out her hand to Harry and looked toward his aunt. "We will be back by 8pm at the latest, but I do not anticipate that we will be so long." She was still waiting for Harry's hand to join her own, which caused her to huff impatiently.

Harry looked up at her innocently, and said, "But Professor McGonagall, we don't need to walk to the edge of the wards, ma'am… I can set them to allow the Portkey, ma'am."

McGonagall blinked down at him. "You can… what?" Wards were magic that was hardly even touched on at Hogwarts—students had to study on their own or go into a Mastery after graduation in order to learn how to cast or alter them.

"Change them, ma'am," he repeated slightly more hesitantly, as though realizing that this might not be an expected answer. "The wards are connected to H-me, and the House."

The Deputy Headmistress shook her head sharply. What in Merlin's name had she gotten herself into? "It will be nice to stretch your legs, don't you think?" Then she glanced at Petunia quickly. "He has been out of the house, correct?"

Petunia Dursley nodded quickly, happy to be able to have the right answer for once. "Harry has been going to school like any boy his age—he gets plenty of exercise walking to and from there every day."

McGonagall held her hand out more obviously and wiggled her fingers. "Hold my hand, Harry," she ordered finally, and the boy's hand quickly slipped into her own. "We shall return." And the two of them strode out the door that Minerva could hardly believe she had entered through only an hour before.

Minerva heaved a sigh as she and Harry finally appeared in the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. The eleven-year-old was still as quiet as he had been on their whole walk toward the edge of the wards, and she had yet to see his beautiful green eyes again. He had been reluctant to follow her lead in leaving the edge of the wards, but had finally acquiesced when she had ordered him. Minerva drew her wand to open the entrance to Diagon Alley, but she had hardly drawn it when she heard a snap followed by the creak of the bricks rearranging themselves.

The Deputy Headmistress glanced down sharply at the tiny boy beside her, whose hand was still in hers. "Did you do that?" she asked sternly. Harry nodded hesitantly. "How did you do it without a wand?"

"Harry doesn't need a wand. House Elves have their own magic to enter Diagon Alley," Harry answered evenly, but the tone of his voice indicated that he did not expect a pleasant response.

"You're just full of surprises," she muttered under her breath, but the jerk of his head seemed to say that Harry had heard her nonetheless. At a more normal volume, she continued, "Underage wizards are not allowed to perform magic outside of Hogwarts."

For the first time since they had left the house, McGonagall saw those bright green eyes pointed up at her. Harry's mouth had formed into an 'O' of surprise and his eyes were glittering with frustration. He seemed about to speak several times, before he finally settled on saying, "Then Harry is glad that he is a House Elf."

Minerva pursed her lips until she knew that they were almost invisible and narrowed her eyes on those of the tiny boy. "You are not an Elf, you are a boy, and you are subject to Wizarding regulations. You will do no more magic until you reach Hogwarts, is that clear? I've no idea how your magic has gone unnoticed thus far."

Harry's eyes flashed angrily before breaking from hers and looking forward again. "The barrier closed," he pointed out dully.

"Indeed," she replied, staring down at the boy for a moment before deciding not to push the point at the moment. She drew her wand again and this time had the chance to tap the appropriate brick and watch with satisfaction as the barrier opened. Immediately she pulled Harry through the opening and off to the side of the road, where they walked in relative obscurity toward Gringott's.

The moment they entered Gringott's, Harry seemed more at ease. Minerva was surprised, as she was used to Muggleborns who were terrified at their first sight of a goblin, but then she remembered that this boy not only knew but imitated House Elves—why not smile at goblins?

And smile he did—and chatter incessantly at Griphook about everything he knew about Goblins (which was, surprisingly, quite a bit). It was the Deputy Headmistress' experience that goblins usually chose to stay aloof and answered as shortly as possible; Griphook was by no means talkative, but he did show some interest in what Harry had to say, which was more than Minerva could say for every other human-Goblin interaction that she had witnessed.

Events only became stranger when they reached the vault. Professor McGonagall knew that the goblins were always curt and impatient around the vaults, and always followed the same routine. She waited for the goblin to impatiently demand the lantern, before realizing that Harry had leapt up almost before the cart had stopped and had the lantern already held out toward Griphook. The goblin actually smiled; his sharp, uneven teeth made it almost frightening, but it seemed to be intended as pleasant. He didn't speak again until Harry had followed him out of the cart and handed him the key as well, waiting patiently while the door was unlocked.

A whole lot of green smoke poured out of the vault, the results of hundreds of security spells cast between the last time it had been opened and now. McGonagall was obscured from her place within the cart and her widened eyes went unnoticed when Griphook spoke gruffly. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. I have not had the pleasure of meeting such an understanding wizard in my many years."

"Har—I—Har—" The boy didn't seem capable of deciding how to start the sentence. "Harry is not a wizard!" he exclaimed petulantly, finally.

"You were a powerful wizard at a young age, and I've no doubt that you will be again. Do not, however, forget your friends."

"Harry won't," Potter responded firmly.

"Very well." The goblin's demeanor reversed itself in an instant. "Will Mr. Potter be making a withdrawal as planned?"

Minerva was almost disappointed that she was unable to see Harry's eyes widen in shock, when she heard the gasp that he emitted at seeing the contents of his vault unobstructed. "This is—it's all mine?" he nearly whispered.

"Your parents left you well-provided-for, Mr. Potter," she inserted briskly. "Now take a reasonable amount and let us be going. We have many errands yet to run." She filled the extended pause that followed with more information. "Gold are Galleons. Seventeen of the silver, Sickles, make a Galleon, and twenty-nine of the bronze, Knuts, make a Sickle."

Before she could believe it, Harry was seated back in the cart and they were making their way back up to the surface, the ride just as wild as on the way down. Minerva narrowed her eyes. Had he used magic? And how much had he brought? With a sigh of relief at the return to the surface, she decided to be hopeful that Potter had communicated further with the goblin, and that he had sufficient funds to take care of their expedition.

"Right," she said decisively as they exited Gringott's. "Robes, books, equipment, and a wand. Which would you like to take care of first?"

Harry scowled. "I don't need a wand or clothes."

Minerva pursed her lips irritatedly. "You will be purchasing every item on your list while I am here. Do not argue with me, Harry; I do not want to get off to a bad start with you."

Harry turned large, sad eyes up at her, and the stern professor couldn't see any deception in them. It seemed the boy was really disturbed by the thought of buying clothing and a wand. Minerva was accustomed to dealing with homesickness, but this was completely out of the normal range of reactions she had gotten from students. She sighed.

"Do you like to read, Harry?" Part of her was terrified that the boy had never learned to read, despite Petunia Dursley's claim that he had been to school. So when he smiled widely and nodded, she was relieved. "Then let's go to Flourish and Blotts first," she decided.

Harry bounced on his feet slightly. "I get to go to Flourish and Blotts?" he exclaimed excitedly. "I've never been in there!"

She smiled gently, happy to see him acting more like a normal human his age. She took his hand in hers before he ran off or gestured too excitedly and drew attention from the passersby, and began to walk toward the bookshop.

Once they got inside, McGonagall pulled out her copy of the first-year list and handed it to the boy. "These are the books you need, Harry," she said, keeping her voice down particularly low as she said his name. "You may pick one or two other books that you would like to read, but please don't take too long." Harry was already reading the list, and when he reached the end, he looked up at her in surprise and with the widest grin she had seen so far. "We get to learn Potions?"

Minerva preferred to attempt to keep an unsurprised demeanor in spite of the situation, but Harry seemed to have a special talent for keeping her off-balance. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "House Elves have potions?"

Harry shook his head. "No, most don't know how to read—I taught Slinky, though, and Dovey gave me Potions books to practice on!"

"Well, that is.. excellent. You will have a headstart. Speaking of starting, we need to collect your books and get on to the next store, now. Perhaps we can get your Potions ingredients next?"

Harry nodded, glanced around, and then disappeared with a soft pop. Minerva gasped in spite of herself; she should have guessed that he would know how to Apparate from the House Elves as well, but she quickly looked around, hoping that no one had seen him disappear. Fortunately, the store was nearly empty, and no one appeared to have noticed. She then began walking briskly around the store, hoping to find where he had disappeared, but to no avail. Finally, she came out from behind a bookshelf to a position where she could see the front of the store, and Harry was standing there patiently, a small brick that was likely the books shrunken and temporarily stuck together in his hands. She walked over to him quickly, and he looked up at her innocently.

"Isn't Professor McGonagall, Ma'am, going to get any books?"

Minerva sighed. She never thought that she would have to correct a student in this direction, but... "Call me Professor McGonagall, or Ma'am, Harry, but not both, please." He looked uncertain but nodded. "And no, I am here to take you to get your own supplies. Please do not Apparate again; underage wizards are not allowed to do that and you could get in a great deal of trouble if someone from the Ministry sees you doing it."

"Apparate..?" Harry asked, looking confused.

"The way you disappeared and reappeared somewhere else earlier... where did you go?"

Harry frowned. "You mean Popping? Why can't Ha--I do that?" He seemed to register the question, and added, "To buy Harr--my books. The Flourish and Blotts Elves are very nice, Professor McGonagall, Ma--" He cut off before finishing the second honorific. "Can we go to get Har--my Potions ingredients, now?" Harry asked excitedly, bouncing on his toes again.

"Yes, Harry, but no more Popping, alright?" Harry looked confused.

"How do we buy anything without Popping? I don't know how to get to the Stores without Popping..."

"The stores?" McGonagall asked, as they walked. "You walk in the front door, like we just walked into Flourish and Blotts."

"But that's not where you buy anything... there aren't any House Elves there.."

"We don't need House Elves to purchase things at any of these stores, Harry.." Then she thought of something, "Where are there House Elves?"

"In the Stores!" He scowled. "Harry doesn't--I don't understand."

"I don't understand either, Harry, but I'll show you the way a Wizard or Witch buys things." Harry seemed torn between curiosity and frustration; McGonagall tried to ignore the emotions crossing his face and led him into apothecary. She led him to the front and asked the storekeeper for a supply of basic potions ingredients for a first year, who bustled pulled a box from behind the counter. "Where's your bag with your money, Harry?" she asked him, and he offered the bag to her immediately. "No, I'd like you to count it out.. 10 Sickles 7 Knuts."

Harry glanced at the shopkeeper, and Minerva saw that he had gotten distracted with another customer. Then she heard a snap and felt a weight in her hands. To her surprise, the appropriate amount had just appeared on the hand she had been holding out for him to place the money in.

Hurriedly she looked back at the shopkeeper, and to her relief he appeared to have noticed nothing. "Harry!" she scolded, then decided to wait until after they got out. She frowned at him, then turned and paid the shopkeeper. Then she took Harry's hand more firmly than before and led him out of the store quickly. She stopped in a nook, and pressed her lips together while she glared down at him for a moment before saying, "What did I say about doing magic, Mr. Potter?"

Harry flinched. "S-sorry, Professor McGonagall, Ma'am." He seemed very contrite, and she recognized the look in his eyes as the one that House Elves tended to get right before they began to bang their heads on the nearest hard object. She was ready to lunge and stop him from 'punishing' himself, but he didn't go that far.

"Alright. No more magic, or I will have to begin giving you detentions to be served once the school year begins. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded his wide, glistening eyes, and didn't say anything. Minerva stared into his eyes for another moment to make sure that he understood that she was serious, then sighed and took his hand again. "Time for your robes, at Madam Malkin's." She felt a shudder go through the tiny figure, and glanced down at him, but he seemed to be attempting to keep his face blank now, his lips almost as thin as she knew her own could get when she was angry. She didn't think he was angry; the shaking seemed to indicate that he was scared or upset. She hoped he would be okay, but didn't want to establish herself as a comforting figure. It was important that she been seen as strict but fair, showing no special care toward any one student, no matter the circumstances. Even toward the son of two of her favorite students... _especially_ toward the son of two of her favorite students.

Just before they got to the store, McGonagall pulled them up short. "I'll need to transfigure your clothing into something more respectable. We're lucky no one who has seen us has known enough about Muggle clothing to notice how unusually ragged it is, yet." She raised her wand. "It will only be a temporary transfiguration, of course." She said several words and waved her wand, and Harry's clothing had no holes, fit him properly, and bright colors as though it hadn't been worn and washed until all color had been leeched from it.

Harry looked at her wand and then down at his clothes and shivered, but didn't say anything. She guided him the rest of the way into Madam Malkin's.

The store was nearly empty except a single witch looking through clothing at the far end, and Madam Malkin herself, who looked up when they entered. "Professor McGonagall, what brings you here?"

This was uncharacteristic; usually Madam Malkin immediately guessed when a child came in with Minerva that she was escorting another Muggleborn to get his supplies. "Another for Hogwarts," McGonagall repeated the phrase she had heard from the other woman so many times, and the woman blinked.

"Is the dear hiding behind—oh!" She seemed to suddenly see Harry. "Welcome, dear! You're small, but I've no idea how I didn't see you! Just step up here and we'll get you fitted up."

Minerva had her own ideas about why Madam Malkin hadn't seen Harry. House Elves had an ability to work and not be noticed; was it possibly a form of magic that Harry had picked up and unconsciously used? Other than Griphook, Minerva hadn't seen anyone react to Harry at all, now that she thought back. She waited impatiently for Madam Malkin to finish fitting Harry for his robes, and decided while she waited not to say anything. She didn't want to have to give him a detention before school started for using magic, especially if he didn't even consciously know he was doing it.

"Time for a wand," she said, and began guiding him to Ollivander's. Harry didn't seem to accept this as easily as he had the clothing, though.

"I don't need a wand!" he exclaimed, stopping in place.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you do. Now come along," she said sternly.

Harry opened his mouth to give what appeared to be an angry response, before closing his mouth, lowering his head, and allowing her to guide him forward. They were in Ollivander's a few minutes later.

"Harry Potter," said the man as he stepped out from between the rows of shelves. "I thought I'd be seeing you soon... you have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Excellent for charms work."

Harry hadn't looked up yet, but Ollivander continued. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it; it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, you know."

The eleven-year-old's head came up then, as McGonagall could have anticipated. "Harry is not a wizard," he said firmly. "Harry does not want a wand, and a wand will not choose Harry."

Minerva wasn't sure that she had ever seen Ollivander caught completely flat-footed before now. The eerie old wizard stared at Harry and didn't seem to be able to come up with anything to say. McGonagall stepped in immediately. "Well then, **Harry**, you won't mind waving any wand that Mr. Ollivander gives to you, will you?"

Harry looked surprised, but then shrugged. Apparently, he couldn't fight that logic.

Minerva was doubting her own logic when half an hour and dozens of boxes later, no wand had so much as shot sparks. Was it possible that Harry was somehow stifling his magic, or that he had done so much House Elf magic without a wand that a wand would no longer choose him? Harry hadn't said a word throughout the whole procedure, and Ollivander had stopped describing the new wands, giving in to Harry's obvious interest in getting through this as quickly and quietly as possible.

The uncomfortable silence of the old shop was broken, finally, by a cry of surprise from Harry. He had reached out to take and swish the next wand, but had drawn his hand back immediately after touching it. "Did you feel something?" Ollivander asked, luminous eyes wide with excitement. "Pick it up and give it a swish, Mr. Potter!"

Hesitantly Harry reached out again, and still seemed to be uncomfortable when he was holding it. He gave it a swish, and yellow and red sparks emerged from it. McGonagall let out a breath in relief. "How much will that be, Mr. Ollivander?"

"I don't want it!" Harry cried out, dropping it back into the box as though it was burning his hand. "I'm not a wizard, I don't want to be a wizard."

"Mr. Potter," Minerva began, but with a soft pop he had disappeared. Ollivander gaped at the spot where he had stood, then looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"I have anti-Apparation wards all over this place, as old as my family. Not to mention Mr. Potter hasn't even attended Hogwarts, much less reached the age to learn to Apparate, and claims to not want to be a Wizard."

"He's apparently befriended at least one House Elf, and wants to believe that he is one."

Ollivander blinked his large eyes owlishly. "A House Elf? Intriguing. I have never heard of a Wizard who successfully performed House Elf magic." He put the lid on the box. "Perhaps you should take this to Hogwarts for him, then. I presume he will still be attending Hogwarts..?"

McGonagall nodded, her lips still pursed. "That is the plan. I should report back to Headmaster Dumbledore, now," she replied, taking the box from Ollivander's outstretched hand.

"Please also notify the headmaster that the only brother wand to that of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has now been sold." McGonagall only allowed her eyes to widen slightly at this information, nodded curtly, and strode quickly from the shop and out of Diagon Alley, carrying the precious wand with her.

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A/N: Yes, there will be more. I've had the first three chapters of this sitting on my computer for.. I don't want to admit how long. Anyway, I'm finally getting around to posting it.. that's gotta count for something, right?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry that this chapter is short, but I'm trying to keep one POV per chapter, and this was all that was really necessary.

Also, I should point out that a few people have noticed that sometimes I used "Hairy" instead of "Harry." Believe it or not, that was not a mistake. You'll notice that it only occurs in dialogue, and Dovey is the only one that uses it. In fact, she only says that when she's not using any honorifics with his name.. it's his "House Elf" name. :-)

Enjoy!

House Elf Harry Chapter 2

Headmaster Dumbledore welcomed the distraction when he heard the faint sound of stone grinding against stone, indicating that the gargoyle guarding the base of the stairwell to his office had been given the correct password. He set the paperwork he had been staring at off to the side, and prepared a pleasant smile on his face.

"Minerva, I see you're back from escorting Mr. Potter to Diagon Alley? I trust everything—"

"No, Albus, everything did not not go well," his Deputy Headmistress said, and Albus' eyes widened slightly as he realized that she sounded almost as though she was about to cry. "I don't know whether to be more angry at you for not listening to me, or at myself for not pressing the point, Albus!"

"Minerva, please, sit down and calm down… have some tea, and then explain, from the beginning…"

Before sitting and doing as suggested, Minerva slammed a box into the table with slightly more force than necessary. Albus recognized it as one of Ollivander's boxes. "What is this?" he questioned, already opening the box as Minerva collapsed back into one of the comfortable high-backed chairs on the other side of his desk.

Fawkes trilled lightly and flew over to perch on the desk and examine the wand that Albus found inside when he opened. Minerva chuckled bitterly. "The other wand containing one of Fawkes' feathers. Sold to Harry Potter this afternoon, though he refused to take it." She waved her wand, conjuring a cup of steaming tea, and took a fortifying sip, waiting for the questions.

That brought the headmaster's head up in shock. "Refused to take it? He really doesn't want to come, even after seeing Diagon Alley? Whyever not?"

"He thinks he is a House Elf, Albus. A House Elf!" Albus would have liked to comfort her, but his head was reeling almost as much as hers probably was.

"Tell me everything that happened, Minerva. From the very beginning." And she did. Albus heard how she had found Harry, answering the door in ragged clothes; how a House Elf had appeared in the middle of her conversation with Harry and his aunt, insisting that he had to go to Hogwarts. How Harry had constantly slipped back and forth between speaking like a House Elf and like a normal human; how he had obviously been to Diagon Alley and even been shopping before, but only as a House Elf; and finally, how he had only grudgingly agreed to buy new clothes and had completely refused the wand when it had chosen him.

"You said that the House Elf said her name was Dovey and she was from the House of Bones?" Albus asked grimly when she had told her story. Minerva nodded, and watched as the headmaster of Hogwarts stood and walked over to the fireplace, where he grasped a handful of floo powder and knelt down. "Amelia Bones!" he called after tossing his handful into the fire.

After a short, strange conversation with Amelia Bones, Albus was able to stand up again, and an older female House Elf popped into the room. Albus glanced at Minerva, and she nodded slightly to indicate that this was the same House Elf.

"You are the House Elf that has been teaching Harry Potter to be a House Elf?"

Dovey shook her head. "Oh, no, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, Dovey is not teaching Master Harry Potter sir to be a House Elf. Harry Potter sir is always wanting to be a House Elf, even when Dovey always tells him that he is a Wizard."

"But you have continued to visit him in a Muggle house, and have taught him House Elf magic?" Minerva confirmed.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall ma'am. Dovey was trying not to interfere, but Master Harry Potter sir was needing help. Dovey was waiting for a Wizard to come and check on Master Harry Potter, sir, so that she could be explaining." She looked back and forth between them. "But no Wizard is ever coming, until today, so Dovey was continuing to visit and letting little Slinky continue to visit too."

Albus glanced at Minerva, and not unexpectedly saw that her lips were pressed very tightly together; she was obviously very angry, and he didn't think it was directed toward the House Elf. "Why didn't you contact someone, Dovey?" he asked tiredly.

"Who should Dovey have been contacting, Headmaster Dumbledore sir? Master Harry Potter sir was happy, Master Harry Potter sir's 'family,'" she put a strong emphasis on the word 'family,' obviously not thinking highly of the Dursleys, "was happier, and no one was visiting to check to see if Master Harry Potter sir was alright."

"You said Harry needed help," Minerva noted, then, her eyes narrowing. Dovey nodded. "What kind of help?"

"Hairy was too young to be doing the work that they was giving him.. Hairy was trying very hard, but he was hurt and lonely and unhappy.. Dovey couldn't tell Slinky to stop visiting, or stop visiting Hairy, if no one else was helping Hairy!"

"What do you mean, hu—" Minerva began to question, but then Dovey tilted her head.

"The House of Bones is calling Dovey… may Dovey go, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir?"

Albus held up his hand. "Just one moment, Dovey… since you seem to be the… dare I say it, parental figure, in this case… can you make certain that young Harry makes it onto the train on September the first? He and Minerva parted under less than ideal conditions, and…"

"Less than ideal conditions?" Dovey shrilled questioningly, glaring slightly at Minerva. She suddenly seemed to have grown several inches.

Minerva pursed her lips. "He didn't like the fact that a wand had chosen him."

Dovey returned to normal, shaking her head sadly. "Oh, Hairy… why is you not seeing that you is a wizard, and a great one?" Then she seemed to come back to herself. "Dovey will be sure that Master Harry Potter, sir, is in the train on September 1st." She bowed to Headmaster Dumbledore, then to Professor McGonagall, and then popped out of sight.

Albus steepled his fingers and stared into the middle distance. "This will be an interesting year… a most interesting year indeed…"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm very sorry it took me so long to post this. I'm trying (for once) to stay one chapter ahead of myself, so this has actually been written for a while. It was actually chapter 4 that gave me so much trouble, but now it's mostly done and I'm on to chapter 5. It's also kind of "fun" to figure out how to break these up. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3

POV: Neville Longbottom

Neville was confused, and more than a bit skeptical. The boy sharing his compartment, Harry, had been very strange. He wasn't sure whether he believed the boy actually thought he was a House Elf, or whether it was an elaborate joke someone wanted to play on him. It wouldn't be the first time. Because Neville had taken so long to perform magic for the first time, and was so shy, all the other kids seemed to think he was stupid too. He had been the brunt of many practical jokes, pranks, and wisecracks. He was hoping that Hogwarts would be different, but this wasn't a good sign.

Neither was the fact that the boy, Harry if that was his real name, had disappeared somewhere between the train and the lake. Neville had looked around for him on his way, and had meant to tell the man who was taking the first years across the lake about it, but when he saw the size of the man, he couldn't get himself to open his mouth and say a word. He just mutely chose a boat with a girl with curly brown hair and a Weasley -- Ron, he was pretty sure, was his name.

They got across the lake without incident, thankfully, and waited patiently where they were told to. Neville was a little nervous about how they might be determining what House he was in, especially when some of the other kids were talking about fighting trolls and other "trials" that Neville was sure he could never pass. But then, they wouldn't have brought him all the way here to send him home, would they? Would they?

It seemed like forever before McGonagall came to give her speech, and then escort them into the Great Hall. There they found that it was a hat, of all things, that would be Sorting them. That wasn't so bad, it seemed. The frizzy brown-haired girl was sorted into Ravenclaw, he noticed abstractly, and then before he knew it his name was being called.

Nervously, he walked up and took the hat. He placed it on his head as he sat down, and waited.

He almost jumped out of the chair when he heard a voice in his head. "Hrmm.. Neville Longbottom, eh? Interesting, fascinating even.. I see that you appear very timid, even to yourself at times, but there is bravery there, no doubt.. especially when it comes to those you care about, you can be brave beyond measure. And loyal, oh, loyal, yes, you are very loyal. You are not stupid, no, but you do not covet knowledge, and cunning you are not. Now, that leaves two.. which shall it be.. I think you will do best in.. oh yes, this will be perfect. It had better be," the hat suddenly changed to yelling out loud for the whole hall to hear, "Hufflepuff!"

Neville had no problem figuring out which table was his: they were all shouting and cheering and clapping. He'd never seen such a commotion on his behalf, and it made him feel good; really good, if he admitted it to himself.

Some of that good feeling went away, though, when he realized he'd walked halfway to his chair with the hat still on his head, and Professor McGonagall was calling his name. He turned around and sheepishly returned the hat, then headed toward the Hufflepuff table a little less excited than before. After all, probably there would be a lot of people who didn't want to be associated with such a screw-up as he'd already proven himself to be.

A fourth year was already making room for him, though, and saying, "Hey, Neville, nice to meet you! Don't worry about the hat thing, someone does it every year. Tomorrow, no one will remember, trust me." He smiled. "My name's Cedric, by the way."

Neville smiled back. This might just be okay, after all.

Their attention was all grabbed when a couple of students later, McGonagall called, "Potter, Harry." The whole room buzzed, and looked for a kid with a scar, the only one to ever survive the Killing Curse, to step forward. No one did, though, and McGonagall looked displeased. "Potter, Harry," she repeated, slightly more loudly.

Still no one stepped forward. The kids that were left to be Sorted were looking around, but couldn't find anyone with the scar. Professor McGonagall looked back at Headmaster Dumbledore, who stood up and said firmly, "Harry Potter!"

Suddenly, the small child that Neville had spent the entire train ride with appeared with a pop right in front of Dumbledore. The main difference was that he was now dressed in rags instead of the student robes of earlier, and consequently looked a little more like a House Elf. "Headmaster Professor Dumbledore sir is needing Harry?"

"Professor McGonagall has been calling you, Mr. Potter. Where were you?" the headmaster asked, his voice quite gentle for the circumstances.

"Harry was helping the Castle, Headmaster Professor Dumbledore sir," he exclaimed animatedly. "There was students' things to be moved, and pets, and cooking to be done! Oh, Harry couldn't keep up with all that was needing to be done!"

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, and Harry spun around to see her, much of the excitement leaving his face and frame. "Why did you--oh, this is not a conversation for now. Please come here and be Sorted."

Though obviously reluctant, Harry did as he was told. He moved over to the chair, sat down, and allowed McGonagall to place the hat on his head, where it fell down to cover his eyes.

The first minute stretched and stretched, and Neville thought that any second the Hat would make its decision. Harry didn't move, and finally, the hat yelled, "Hufflepuff!"

The whole school seemed to be in shock. This waif of a child was Harry Potter? He talked like a House Elf! And he was Sorted into _Hufflepuff_? No one could have guessed!

The silence continued for another moment, and then the Hufflepuffs clapped, hesitantly at first and then a little more confidently, though not with as much enthusiasm as they had with Neville and their other new students. While they were clapping, McGonagall had a short conversation with Harry, which resulted in him snapping his fingers; in the blink of an eye, his clothes changed from the rags back into his school robes. McGonagall told him one other thing, to which he nodded though he looked like he would rather not, and then he walked slowly to the Hufflepuff table.

When it became obvious that no one even at Hufflepuff was sure what to make of Harry, Neville sighed and scooted over a little to allow Harry to sit between him and Cedric. Maybe he would be ridiculed now for his choice of "friends" but he wasn't going to leave Harry to be all alone the way he had been most of his life.

"Hey Harry," he said when the boy sat down next to him. He knew now that this kid must be the Boy Who Lived, but he was so small and so, well, weird, that Neville had a hard time idolizing him like he always had in his mind. Maybe the Killing Curse had jarred something in the poor kid's brain.

Harry attempted a weak smile. "Hello, Neville Longbottom sir," he said formally.

"You can call me Neville, Harry. Just Neville."

Harry was still subdued, but said, "Yes, Neville, sir." Neville almost laughed. It really was like talking to a House Elf; even the same stubbornness to name a Wizard with just their given name.

Cedric had been staring, but now apparently gathered his courage to address the strange boy. "Nice to meet you, Harry," he said, and Harry turned to look at him and smiled. "I'm--"

"Cedric Diggory, sir! You is knowing Manny and Ditty, then! I has only met Manny, but Manny is saying Ditty is very friendly, too! And both is saying very good things about Cedric Diggory, sir!"

"Erm, okay... Yes, Manny and Ditty are both very nice, but.. how did you know my name?"

"Magic was telling me, sir!" He looked around at each of the people at the table, and lit up even more when he saw another first year with long black hair plaited down her back. He looked as though he was going to exclaim something else, but Neville broke in suddenly.

"Shh, Harry.. the Sorting's still happening, we can talk in a minute."

Harry surprisingly kept quiet through all of dinner, though he didn't eat anything either. Neville looked at him and wondered why he wasn't eating, but finally gave up on it. Cedric apparently wanted to ask too, but had also sensed the strangeness. Neither of them doubted that the kid could get food himself, if he could apparate within Hogwarts. And if they didn't know for sure that he was getting food, they'd tell their head of house and let her work it out.

At the end of dinner, as the prefects were standing up and directing the first years to follow them to their respective Houses, Harry remained seated. Neville and Cedric exchanged a worried glance. "Are you okay, Harry?" asked Cedric.

Gloomily, Harry replied, "Harry must be waiting and then going to see Headmaster Dumbledore, sir. Harry will be seeing you later." He tried to smile up at them but still didn't look very happy.

Neville glanced up at the Head Table and McGonagall and Sprout both motioned him to go with the rest of his yearmates, so he moved along despite some misgivings about leaving Harry alone. He was finding himself rather protective of the strange boy.

As they headed toward the Hufflepuff common room, Cedric pulled him toward the edge of the group and asked quietly, "Did you talk to him before you got here? On the train, I mean?" Neville nodded. "This may be a stupid question, but, erm.. is he all there? If you know what I mean?"

Neville frowned. "I don't know. He seems sane enough, except that he thinks he's a House Elf. So it depends on whether thinking you're a House Elf is insane." Neville almost laughed at the thought that he might be considering such a thing.

Cedric did chuckle, a little. "Yes, it does seem rather far from sane.. then again, he _can_ do at least one bit of House Elf magic: he can apparate in Hogwarts. Not even Dumbledore can do that, but the House Elves do it like it's easy."

"He said some weird things, on the train. Something about.." Neville frowned, trying to remember the exact wording. "Serving magic, I think? Yeah, that's what he said. He said House Elves (including him, apparently) 'serve' magic instead of controlling it."

"Well, whatever the case," replied Cedric, "there's no doubt that this year is going to be interesting."

--

POV: Professor Severus Snape

The moment he saw Harry Potter _apparate_ into the middle of the Great Hall during the Sorting, Snape could tell that this year was going to 'interesting.' Some people thought this was code for "exciting" or perhaps "not boring" but in Severus' experience, it meant distracting and irritating, if not actually dangerous.

Yes, this year was going to be 'interesting,' and he didn't want any part of it. He especially wasn't looking forward to having his first class with Harry Potter, which came all too soon for his liking.

To his disgust, by the time he swept into the room, Potter was not only in his seat but fairly bouncing in it in excitement. Hadn't anyone told the child about him? How ridiculously partial he was; how he managed to enter a remarkable number of the childrens' nightmares, and not only the Hufflepuffs'?

Or perhaps not. He saw that only Neville Longbottom was (apparently reluctantly) sitting next to the boy, and no one was currently talking to him. Probably he had scared them off with his talk of being a House Elf the night before. Stupid of him, really; didn't he realize that even Hufflepuffs could be vicious little animals at this age, particularly to those who seemed so different?

The bouncing really was intolerable. "Mr. Potter! If you cannot remain still, I will have to ask you to leave the classroom before you knock a cauldron over!"

A few scattered snickers, mostly from Ravenclaws, but mainly the children seemed cowed by his reputation alone. Potter even froze and kept completely still. Still had something approaching a smile on his face, though.

"I am here to teach you potions," he proclaimed, and launched into his yearly speech. None of the students were dozing off at least, and a few of them even seemed enraptured. Potter seemed to be one of them. Odd; the headmaster had made it clear that the child wanted no part in being a wizard and would need some convincing. The headmaster had used the adjective 'gentle' very pointedly in his direction; he had just as pointedly ignored it.

He completed his speech, and immediately set out to humiliate Potter. If the boy needed convincing to be a wizard, it wasn't going to come from him. "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" One of the Ravenclaws would likely know this, but Harry Potter wouldn't, especially having been raised in the Muggl--

"That would make the Draught of Living Death, Professor Snape, sir!" The boy was smiling and, dammit, he'd even been polite. Snape nearly ground his teeth, but tried again with none of the praise that the quick answer was worth.

"Where would you look to find a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, Professor Snape, sir. Would you like one?" Potter asked helpfully. A few students chuckled quietly in spite of themselves.

Snape glared. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" He snapped out.

Potter frowned at this, and Snape almost sneered triumphantly. Then the boy said, "Please, Professor Snape, sir.. I don't know the difference.. I thought they were the same thing..?"

"Five points from Gry--Hufflepuff, for your cheek, and for answering a question with a question." Snape had to think quickly to come up with an excuse to still take points from the boy. "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same ingredient by different names; if you knew that, you should have said it, not asked whether it was true."

"Sorry, Professor Snape, sir," Potter replied, lowering his head. Snape stared in surprise. Both Potter and Lily had been obstinate when they knew they were in the right; could this possibly be their child that kept his head down submissively in the face of such injustice?

Snape shook it off and continued the lesson, which was to brew an incredibly simple potion to cure boils. It was so simple, he could be almost certain one of them would manage to destroy it most spectacularly.

As he stalked between the cauldrons, he kept an eye on Neville Longbottom, the one he was almost sure would be the one to ruin the potion. The boy was shaking so much from nervousness that he couldn't cut straight, and he kept trying to add ingredients too soon or seeming to forget that he needed to be putting one in at all. Fortunately for him, Potter was not only taking over the cutting and crushing duties, but had also put Longbottom back on track several times when he had these kinds of slips. Their potion was turning out to be one of the best in the class instead of one of the worst.

"Potter! Five points fr--" he was cut off by a sudden hissing sound, and he turned around to see that Susan Bones' potion had overflowed the cauldron and should have splattered on her--except instead, it had frozen in mid-air before it could reach her. "What in... who did that?" Snape looked around suspiciously, and no one had their wand out.

Potter snapped, and the potion reversed course and re-entered the cauldron, and seemed to be in some kind of stasis.

"Detention, Potter! Remain after class!" The buzzer sounded that indicated that classes were over, much to Snape's relief. Not that he showed it. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go!" Snape turned to glare at Potter, whose things were already put away somehow--probably more of that infernal House Elf magic.

Neville seemed inclined to stay and support his housemate, but one glare from Severus was enough to send him packing with the rest of the students. It wasn't more than two minutes before Snape was alone with Potter.

"Harry is being very sorry, Professor Snape, sir. Harry is knowing from the wards that Professor Snape, sir, is not liking House Elves down here."

"Is that so?" Snape replied with as much calm as he could muster. "Then why, Potter, did you come down here, if you were still insisting on being a House Elf? What use do House Elves have with potions?" He sneered, expecting the boy to have no answer for this. Potter would learn that he could not be a House Elf only when it was convenient.

"Oh, Professor Snape, sir, Potions are being very useful to House Elves! House Elves like Potions very much, but House Elves are not usually knowing how to read, so House Elves are not used to being able to use Potions. But it's very useful, Professor Snape, sir, very very useful!"

Snape was stymied. He only knew one thing. "Kindly stop using every honorific you know in conjunction with my name, Potter. 'Professor Snape' will be sufficient. And do not use that abominable House Elf grammar. If you do not know how to speak like a proper Wizard, it is high time you learned."

"Oh, Harry is being--" Potter stopped a few seconds after starting, and then began more slowly and deliberately, "I am very sorry, Professor Snape. It's just habit for Har--for me, to talk like that."

"And your fawning relatives were not bothered at all by these ridiculous habits? They never tried to correct you? Or did you just ignore their attempts to better you?"

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't listen to me talk very much, Professor Snape, si--Professor Snape. They thought that 'Children are to be neither seen nor heard,' and Har--I did my best to please them."

"I think the same thing, not that I ever get my wish," Snape muttered. Then, immediately afterward, he said more loudly, "How were you cheating, Potter?"

"Sir?" Potter asked, as innocently as could be. Snape was only the more convinced of his guilt.

"How did you answer my questions? No first year should have known the answers, _especially_ not one raised among Muggles. So, Potter, _how did you cheat?_"

"If no first year should have known the answers, then why did you ask me, Professor Snape, s--" he just managed to swallow the final honorific. Snape supposed it could be worse; he could be trying to get the boy to _use_ an honorific instead of stopping him using so many.

"Because, you insolent boy, I was going to teach the class the answers immediately afterward. Now, how did you cheat? Did someone whisper you the answers? Did you have a quill charmed to write correct answers that you then read? What was it?"

"I read it in the book, Professor Snape. I've read it through three times since I got it; I wanted to make sure I understood. Potions was the only course Har--I really wanted to take, here. Like you said, Professor Snape, there's no wand waving; I can be a House Elf and still do Potions!"

"And when did you get the book, Potter?"

"On August 6th, Professor Snape, sir," Harry answered promptly.

"And in the approximately three weeks you have had the book, you have read this 350 page book from cover to cover three times?"

Potter nodded.

"Fine, then." Snape began quizzing Harry on minute details of the book. Things the boy shouldn't have known even if he had read it three times; and yet he answered every one of them correctly. Snape asked a question that wasn't in that book. Potter answered that correctly too. Snape was stymied. The boy knew more than most Ravenclaws, even ones who applied their thirst for knowledge to Potions. He couldn't answer every question, but he knew what Snape would deem a remarkable amount, if he was dealing with one of his Slytherins.

"You will return Saturday morning, at which time your detention will consist of helping me with potions that will be used in the Hospital Wing, assuming you actually have the knowledge you claim to have." He knew a few good potions that the boy would certainly not be capable of making successfully, and which would have various nasty side effects when they did go wrong. It would not be a pleasant detention; not for Potter, at least.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Believe it or not, I haven't abandoned this. I've just been really busy actually writing for work. ;-) And by the time I'm done writing for work, I often don't have the energy to write any more for fun. Sad but true. But here's an update, anyway!

Chapter 4: Explanations and Detentions

Pomona Sprout could not believe how much uproar this darling little child had caused in the school. Even among her hard-working Hufflepuffs, she could see that he was the hardest working of them all. He wasn't afraid to dig his hands deep into the dirt when necessary to care for the plants, and she could almost see even the most withered ones (which had had the most 'attention' from the first year students, who generally didn't know what they were doing) begin to thrive under his gentle care. She couldn't see in him a hint of the stubbornness, rebelliousness, or unwillingness to learn that many of the teachers who had already had him in a class complained of.

Then again, he didn't need a wand for her class, and apparently, that was one of the issues. She hardly wanted to single him out after he had been such a good student, but he was in her House and she wanted to get a chance to talk to him before there were even more problems.

"All right, that's all for today," she said to the mixed group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. "Mr. Potter, if you can please stay after for a few minutes?" she added, trying to make it sound like as much of an afterthought as possible. No use singling him out anymore than she already had to.

Harry didn't look particularly uncomfortable, and nodded quickly and easily. Pomona was happy to see that Neville seemed to be looking after him, based on the worried look on his face. Indeed, he hung back after all the other students had left. "It's all right, Mr. Longbottom.. I just wanted to talk to Mr. Potter for a few minutes. Your loyalty is to be commended, but you had better hurry along if you don't want to be late to your next class," she told him gently. Neville, who had been showing a scared kind of courage, smiled then; after sending another smile Harry's way, he hurried off to his next class.

"Is--do you need something, Professor Sprout, ma'am?" Harry asked, stuttering slightly and then sounding rather stilted.

"Just to talk to you for a little while. How are you liking Hogwarts?"

"Oh, Hogwarts is wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, his face lighting up at the thought of it. "So much magic everywhere, and so many things to do all the time!"

Pomona realized that he was talking about the castle, not his classes. "And how are your classes going? Are you learning a lot?"

His face closed down then, and he chose his words carefully. "Harry--I... wish that I didn't have to go to classes..." Then he seemed to realize who he was talking to, "Not yours! Harry was not meaning any offense. It's just that... Har--I don't want to learn to use a wand. I don't need a wand! Why does everyone want to make me?"

Instead of trying to explain, she decided to take a different tack. "Why don't you want to learn to use a wand, Harry?"

To her great surprise, instead of getting angry or just shutting down, Harry burst out crying. "Harry just.. Harry just wants to be a House Elf.. Harry isn't a wizard.. why did Harry have to come to Hogwarts? Why?" he cried, with tears streaming down his face.

Without even thinking twice about it, Pomona pulled Harry into a hug and let him cry on her shoulder. She patted his back gently and whispered quiet reassurances. "It's all right.. it'll be okay.." She was used to some of her children being homesick, but this was something else entirely. And hadn't he just said how great Hogwarts was?

When his crying had mostly subsided, she had finally thought of a way to possibly cheer him up, and possibly find out what was going on in his head as well. "Harry, we.. I mean, wizards and witches, we don't know much about House Elves, or their magic. As far as I know, there has **never** been a human who has learned House Elf magic, before you. Can you tell me about being a House Elf? What's different about House Elf magic?"

As she had hoped, he perked up immediately. "Oh yes, Harry is telling you all about House Elves! Professor Sprout, ma'am, must be understanding.. House Elves do not _use_ magic the way that wizards do. House Elves are always _asking_ magic to help them. Wizards are forcing magic out of their bodies and making it do what _they_ want, but House Elves are serving magic, asking it to do what they are needing.. or what their wizards are needing."

Pomona tried to fit her mind around this concept. "But.. magic is just all around us and in us.. how can you serve something like that?"

For a moment, Harry looked stumped at this. Pomona expected him to say that he "just did" but he surprised her. "Hogwarts has a mind of its own, doesn't it, Professor Sprout, ma'am? Harry has been seeing staircases move without any wizard or House Elf telling them to.."

"But that's just mag--" Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. "You mean.. that's magic, telling them to move?"

Harry grinned and nodded. "Yes, and because House Elves are _serving_ magic, we can be asking magic to not move the staircases, or to move them back to where we want them. And it is magic that is always telling us when someone is calling us or when something is going wrong and we are being needed to fix it!"

As she thought this over, Pomona realized that this sweet, wide-eyed child belonged in her House even more than she knew. Not only was he hard working and loyal to _people_ around him, but he was so loyal to the magic that he could apparently communicate with, that he absolutely refused to force it to do anything by using his wand. She began to understand how such a seemingly easygoing child could have been so stubborn.

She smiled down at him. "Now I understand why you don't want to use your wand.. but we also want you to learn to do wizarding magic, just in case you ever need it. Do you understand that?"

Harry scowled and shook his head. "Why would Harry be needing wizarding magic? Harry can already do everything that the wizards are being taught to do with wands!"

"I have a deal for you, Harry, but I'd like you to keep it a secret, alright? I'm sure all of your teachers would be reassured to see you waving a wand and learning the words to the spells." She held up her hand to forestall the protest that she could see coming. "But, I also understand that you know how to do everything with House Elf magic already. So.. if you'll show me your wand, I'll make you a replica. It will look the same on the outside, but it will have no magical core--so you won't accidentally use it, you see? And you can learn the motions and the words, but you can just _ask_ magic to do whatever the spell is supposed to be doing. You can do that, right?"

Harry seemed to be thinking this over. "Harry supposes he can do that.. it will make all the professors stop being so mad at Harry, right?"

"It should, yes," she responded with a smile. "And I know it will be hard, but if you can practice talking less like a House Elf, it would probably help you to fit in with the other students a little better. I think some of them don't really know how to talk to you.."

Harry nodded slowly. "Har--I will try. Dovey was making--Dovey, she made Har--me practice. But it's still so much easier to talk the way the other House Elves do.."

She smiled. "I know, but I have confidence in you."

----

Harry appeared in the middle of the Hufflepuff common room, the popping sound making Cedric jump in spite of the fact that he was expecting it. He and Neville were the only ones in the common room; it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and everyone else was outside. Neville had told Cedric about Harry's detention with Snape, though, and they had decided to wait for him and make sure he was okay.

Harry grinned. "Hi Neville, hi Cedric!" Then he looked around the otherwise empty common room and tilted his head. "What are you doing inside? Isn't it a nice day outside?"

Neville smiled hesitantly back, exchanging a look with Cedric. "Yeah, it's a nice day.. we just wanted to make sure you got back from your detention in one piece."

"Yeah, Harry," Cedric said. "What did Snape make you do?"

Harry smiled again. Cedric couldn't believe he'd just spent hours with Snape, based on his expression. "Oh, it was wonderful! Har--I got to help Professor Snape with potions for the Hospital Wing, and then I cleaned the cauldrons for him! They needed a House Elf's touch.. did you know he doesn't let House Elves down there to clean?"

"Well, no, I didn't, but I might've guessed.. otherwise it would be a lot cleaner down there," Cedric answered, still not sure what to make of this happy Harry. It sounded like he *had* had the detention, but... "So.. you're okay?"

"Yes, Harry is fine! Er.. I am fine.. sorry, I'm trying to practice." Then he tilted his head again. "Do you know someone named Hermione Granger?"

They both shook their heads, and exchanged another glance. Harry was even more... more weird, than normal, today.

"I think she's calling me.. I guess I should go help her. You should go outside! Even the castle is basking in the sun today!" With that, Harry disappeared.

Cedric shook his head, standing up from the couch. "Well.. I guess Snape didn't make him any less weird.." He laughed. "Shall we go enjoy the sun, then? I think Harry can take care of himself."

Neville laughed too. "I guess so. Maybe we should have been more worried about _Snape_ having to spend hours with him, instead of the other way around?"


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione Granger dragged her finger down the spines of books as she read their titles. She loved the feeling of books, especially old books, under her fingers. Right now, though, she was finding that books were failing her miserably. She wanted to know more about house elves; Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had said that he was a house elf. So she immediately went to the library to find out what a house elf was, but she was having no luck. Now she was just looking for another book about Harry Potter that might also explain about house elves.

"Harry Potter," she muttered, "Harry Potter..."

She barely avoided screaming when there was a popping sound behind her. She spun around to find... Harry Potter, standing right there. And there was another one of her questions: no one could apparate in Hogwarts. She had read that in Hogwarts, a History. So how did Harry Potter apparate into the Great Hall the first night, and how did he just apparate into the library?

"You were calling for--for me, Miss Hermione Granger, ma'am?" the small boy asked with wide eyes. She noticed that he kept his voice down and instinctively did the same.

"Oh, no, I was just... well, I was trying to find out what a House Elf is.."

"Oh, Harry can be--I can tell you what a House Elf is!" He grinned; apparently this was one of his favorite subjects. "Actually, H-I can show you!"

He seemed to be considering something. He started to reach out his hand, then withdrew it back to his side. "Follow me!"

Hermione wasn't so sure about this, but she figured it was safe enough. It was Saturday, and so beautiful outside that hardly anyone was inside. They didn't pass anyone, even the librarian, as they left the library. In fact, they only saw a few students and one or two teachers even as they walked through what felt like half the hallways in Hogwarts.

Finally, they came to a portrait of a bunch of fruit. Harry reached out and tickled the pear, then grinned at Hermione again. Hermione was finding him almost.. cute. He looked a lot younger than he was, and seemed so enthusiastic about everything that he seemed younger, too. Like someone's little brother, really.

But her musings were cut off as the portrait opened to reveal.. a bunch of small, wrinkled, grey skinned creatures with very large ears and only a single tattered cloth to cover each of them. And all of the creatures seemed hard at work cooking, or cleaning up after the others who were cooking.

Harry turned to look at her. "Are you hungry? The House Elves can be cooking something for you!"

Hermione was too distracted with questions. "So.. they do all the cooking?"

"Oh yes, all the cooking, and all the cleaning too! Keeping Hogwarts clean and making sure everyone has food is a big job, but we are loving to do it!"

Hermione looked around again, and noticed that some of the House Elves were smiling fondly in Harry's direction as they went about their business. A few of them, though, looked more irritated than fond.

"Is it always so busy down here?" She realized it was the middle of the afternoon. This seemed like it would be a good time to take a break between cooking lunch and cooking dinner, but they were still hard at work.

"Of course! Or if not right around here, then we is finding something else to do around the castle. House Elves are not sitting around doing nothing when there is something to be done!"

"But.. it's such a lovely day outside.. wouldn't some of them like to.."

"Oh, you is wanting a picnic, for outside?" He grinned, and almost instantaneously there was a House Elf headed their way with a picnic basket. "Let's see.. some bread.. and some cheese.. maybe a little meat.." He was snapping and things were appearing in his hands as he spoke, and he was then setting them carefully in the basket. "And what would you like, some pumpkin juice to drink?"

"I didn't mean to be any trouble," Hermione exclaimed. "I meant, don't any of you all want to go outside and enjoy the sunshine?" she addressed the room at large.

One of the nearby House Elves muttered, "Too much work to be doing." He didn't seem upset about it, though, just explaining.

When she looked back, Harry was biting his lip, seemingly nervous about something. "Come on, Miss Hermione Granger, Ma'am. Harry is getting your picnic basket all ready!"

She frowned but didn't want to let the food go to waste. As the portrait closed behind them, she asked, "Umm.. Harry.. why are they all dressed that way? Can't they buy any better clothes with their pay?"

Harry glanced back at the portrait, then back at her wide eyes. "They is not getting _paid_. They is good House Elves. And they definitely is not wanting _clothes_." He looked down at his own robes in disgust for a moment.

Hermione gasped and stopped walking. "They're not getting paid?! What are they, slaves?"

Harry tilted his head. "What's a slave?"

"Someone who is owned by someone else. Who doesn't get paid for their work, and can't stop working unless the person who owns them says so," Hermione responded flatly. Honestly, the wizarding world was so backwards. How could someone not know what a slave was?

Harry grinned. "Yes! House Elves is being slaves!" He didn't seem upset by the fact at all.

"That's.. that's abominable! They should be freed this instant! I'm going to go talk to the Headmaster--"

"No!" Harry gasped, his grin disappearing in an instant. "Being a slave is not a bad thing. House Elves is _loving_ to be owned by Hogwarts. They doesn't want clothes because that would make them free! And House Elves is not _wanting_ to be free!"

With that, he continued walking, at a swifter pace than before. Hermione just hurried to keep up with him, working up arguments in her head. But when they got outside, Harry shoved the basket into her hands and then disappeared before she could use a single one of them.

---

"I am kicking Potter out of my class," Snape announced as he swooped into the room. All the teachers turned to look at him, and Dumbledore looked up at him and steepled his hands.

"Oh, Severus? And why is that?" he asked calmly.

"He still thinks he's a House Elf," Snape sneered. "And I will not have _House Elves_ in my Potions class."

Flitwick grinned. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Mr. Potter knowing the answers to _all_ your questions, would it Severus?"

Sprout's eyes widened. "No! I didn't know about that! Good for him!" Then she looked at Snape. "And besides, he should be a little better now? I stopped him after class on Thursday. We had a little talk and I think he's going to try harder to fit in to our expectations."

Professor McGonagall made a little humming noise. "I was wondering what had changed. I've been trying not to single him out but on Wednesday he was very obstinate about not even picking up his wand. Then on Friday, he was doing the spells just fine." She looked at Sprout. "What did you say to him?"

"Well.. I do have to admit, I had to make an executive decision. In fact, I meant to tell you all about that. I gave him a fake wand, and told him to practice the wand movements and spells with that."

McGonagall frowned heavily and even the headmaster looked upset at that, so Sprout hurried to explain. "He told me a little bit about how House Elf magic works. Apparently, the hat saw more than just a hard-working child in him. He's extremely loyal, too: to magic. It's hard to understand, but.. magic is almost like a person to him. And apparently when he does House Elf magic, he's asking magic to do something for him. And when we use a wand, he sees that as _forcing_ magic to do something. So he doesn't want to 'hurt' magic by forcing it to do something.

"So I thought that if I could just get him to learn how to do magic, even if he's still doing it his way, that would be better than nothing." She smiled somewhat grimly. "And I'm hoping that one of us will teach him a spell that he can't do with House Elf magic. Then he'll have to actually do it with his wand. But this gives him a little time to get used to the idea. You see?"

Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers and then nodded slowly. "Good thinking, Professor Sprout. I think that should be a satisfactory solution for now. Clearly our trying to force him to learn wizarding magic wasn't helping. And I can't help but think that someday his knowing House Elf magic could come in handy..."

"Well, just because he's waving a stick of wood in your classes doesn't mean I'm letting him back in mine," Professor Snape inserted huffily.

"Honestly, Severus," responded Professor McGonagall, "other than acting like a House Elf _outside your classes_ and answering your questions correctly, has he actually done anything to warrant his being kicked out of your class?"

"He used his House Elf magic in my class on the first day, I'll have you know. And I'm fairly certain he used it in his detention, also, proving he hasn't learned anything."

"I heard about that.." Professor Flitwick mused. "One of my Ravenclaws said something stopped one of the Hufflepuff's potions from exploding all over her. Is that what you are talking about?"

"I told him no magic when he cleaned the cauldrons for me, and I'm sure he used it then!" Snape retorted, carefully not answering the original question.

"So.. he saved a student a trip to the Hospital Wing, and he _may_ have used magic to clean some cauldrons? Not very convincing, Severus," McGonagall replied.

"Indeed. I believe you shall have to put up with him for a bit longer, Severus. Come back to me if you have some valid reason to kick him out. Now, is there anything else?"


End file.
